Glee: The Hangover
by TheUltimateGleek123
Summary: The Hangover, but with Glee characters; my dream. / Artie, his best friend Puck, his good friend Kurt, and his future-brother-in-law Finn got so much more than they bargained for after a bachelor party in Las Vegas. Very AU. T for language.
1. A Night in Las Vegas

****

**I have been working on this for longer than you could imagine! :D You don't need to see the movie _The Hangover _to understand what's happening; it's all in here. :) For those of you who have seen one of my favorite movies ever, you'll notice that some of these parts are different than how they are in the movie. The reason is that I mostly read from the script of the movie online; I wasn't able to put in writing each scene exactly how it played out because I couldn't remember. For the most part, this stays true to _The Hangover _and the characters all have the qualities that they do in _Glee_; it actually sort of amazed me how well each _Glee_ character matched up to the ones in the movie. :)**

**Some important things you need to know:**

**Kurt is NOT gay; he is dating Mercedes.**

**Artie has the use of his legs.**

**Puck is married to Quinn and they had Beth after they married.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own _Glee_ or _The Hangover_ or any of the elements in this story.**

* * *

Tina answered her ringing phone quickly, pressing it to her ear. "Hello?"

Puck cleared his throat. "Tina? It's Puck."

"Puck, where the hell are you guys?" the pretty Asian-American girl demanded angrily at her fiancé's friend. "I'm freaking out."

"Yeah, listen. Uh . . ." Puck looked around. "We fucked up."

Tina's eyebrows came together. "What are you talking about?"

"The bachelor party, the whole night, it . . . Things got out of control, uh . . ."—Puck closed his eyes briefly—". . . and we lost Artie."

"What?"

"We can't find Artie," Puck repeated.

Tina started getting angry. "What are you saying, Puck? We're getting married in five hours!"

"Yeah," Puck sighed. "That's not gonna happen."

* * *

**The Day Before**

* * *

"Make sure to call me right when you get to the hotel," Mercedes ordered Kurt. "Not like that conference in Phoenix. I had to wait two hours for you to call me."

"Yeah, I was the keynote speaker," Kurt reminded his girlfriend. "I was late to the podium."

"Still."

"Yeah, you're totally right. I'm sorry." He tried to kiss Mercedes' forehead, but she grabbed her coffee mug and headed toward the living room. Kurt ran a hand through his perfectly sculpted hair. "What is the matter?"

"I don't know. I just hope you're not gonna go to some strip club while you're up there," Mercedes muttered.

"Mercedes, we're going to Napa Valley," Kurt explained mendaciously. "I don't even think they have strip clubs in wine country."

Mercedes sat on the couch, and Kurt sat next to her. "Well," the coffee-skinned diva breathed, "I'm sure if there is one, Puck will sniff it out."

Kurt sighed. "It's not gonna be like that. Besides, you know how I feel about that."

"I know, I know. It's just boys and their bachelor parties. It's gross."

"You're right. It is gross." Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Not to mention it's pathetic," Mercedes added.

"Mmhmm," Kurt hummed.

"Those places are filthy."

"Yeah."

Mercedes took on a disgusted expression. "And the worst part is that little girl, grinding and dry humping the fucking stage up there . . . that's somebody's daughter."

"I was just gonna say that!"

"See?" Mercedes exhaled. "I just wish your friends were as mature as you."

Kurt shrugged. "They are mature, actually. You just have to get to know them better." He smirked.

Suddenly, from out on the street, Kurt and Mercedes heard Puck yell through the window, "Paging Dr. Faggot! Dr. Faggot!"

Kurt looked around awkwardly. "I should go," he said.

"That's a good idea, Dr. Faggot," Mercedes said bitterly.

"Have a good weekend. I'm gonna miss you." Kurt bent over to kiss her, but she leaned away, so Kurt planted one right on the shoulder of her striped shirt.

* * *

Four guys—Artie, Puck, Kurt, and Finn—were about to have a night they'd never forget.

The bachelor party was for Artie, a lean man with thick glasses and shaggy brown hair, who was going to marry his fiancée Tina the next day. He'd invited his friends, Puck and Kurt, and his soon-to-be brother-in-law, Finn, to come along with him to Las Vegas.

Noah "Puck" Puckerman, a young, hazel-eyed, good-looking school teacher who was bored with his life, had always been Artie's best friend. He lived with his wife, Quinn, and their daughter, Beth. Another good friend of Artie's, Kurt Hummel, was a dentist stuck in a bad relationship with his girlfriend, Mercedes Jones. Finn Hudson, Artie's almost-brother-in-law, was extremely tall, and his hair always seemed to be a little messy. He had brown eyes and a lopsided smile, and he had always been a bit "socially awkward," as his sister Tina liked to say.

Four friends. A night in Las Vegas. No wives or girlfriends.

What could go wrong?

* * *

"You know, Artie, I was thinking . . . If you wanna go to Vegas without me, that's totally cool," Finn said.

"What are you talking about?" Artie asked his future brother-in-law. He was focusing solely on adjusting the cuffs on the sleeves of his white shirt, since they had been bothering him, and he just couldn't seem to get them to fit him right.

Finn sighed, running a hand through his already-ruffled hair. "You know, Puck and Kurt, they're your buddies, and it's your bachelor party."

"Come on, Finn. Those two love you." Artie tugged at the end of his right sleeve impatiently.

"And also," Finn sighed, "I don't want you to feel like you have to hold back because your wife's brother's there. I just . . ." He trailed off.

Artie shook his head. "It's not like that. I already told you, Finn, okay? We're just spending the night in Vegas. It's no big deal." He irritably yanked on the sleeve. "Besides, you're not just my wife's brother; you're _my_ brother now."

He looked up to see Finn standing with a white T-shirt on, and no pants.

"I want you to know, Artie, that I'm a steel trap."

* * *

"Holy shit."

As the four guys stepped into the villa—which Kurt had paid for, despite his worry of Mercedes finding out what he had used his credit card on—of the hotel they'd be staying at, Caesars, they were dumbfounded. The place was huge. It was colorful, but, at the moment, the guys didn't really care. Their eyes caught the large television, the wide, comfortable-looking sofa, and everything else that made them wish they could actually live there.

"Now, this is Vegas," Puck laughed.

"Oh, my," Kurt mumbled. "This place is enormous!"

Artie stepped forward and took in the looks of the place. "Now we're talking."

"Is this all one suite?" Finn asked, grinning lopsidedly.

"Thank you, guys." Artie turned on his heel to face his friends. "Or, should I say, thank you, _Kurt_."

"You're welcome. It's only because I love you."

"Okay, ladies, pick a room," Puck ordered, starting to walk toward his chosen room. "Get dressed. Let's be ready in thirty minutes."

Artie looked around once more, smirking. He was so thankful that he had a friend like Kurt to use his own money for Artie's bachelor party. And Puck talked him into going to Vegas in the first place, which Artie was appreciative for now. Artie thought Finn was pretty funny, and he'd be a cool brother-in-law.

"I just wish you could see this place because you, of all people, would love it."

Artie spun around to see Kurt jabbering away on his phone, obviously to Mercedes. Artie couldn't help but feel bad for Kurt. He'd had to lie to Mercedes about where they were going. It seemed as if Kurt was scared of her, like she'd break up with him if he said something wrong. And she probably would.

"Yeah. It's so quaint," Kurt lied.

Artie waited as Mercedes talked on the other line. He couldn't hear what she was saying, only what Kurt was saying back to her.

"Yeah, no, there's no TVs, no phones." Kurt closed his eyes. "They just have these cute little antique radios in all the rooms."

Artie chuckled softly.

"Yeah. What else, um . . . We, uh, met the proprietor."

_Oh, this'll be good,_ Artie thought to himself.

"What's his name?" Kurt questioned, his voice high-pitched as if he were clarifying the question Mercedes asked. "Um . . . Caesar . . . Palacè."

Artie bit his lip to prevent from laughing aloud.

"Yeah, like the salad," Kurt sighed. "Okay, well, listen, I gotta go because we're gonna hit this wine tasting."

Artie shook his head and headed toward his room. He stopped when he heard Puck's voice from behind him.

"I'm not even gonna say anything, it's so embarrassing," Puck grumbled, sauntering over to Kurt.

Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed. "Where's Finn?"

"He, uh, went downstairs. He said he had to grab a few things."

"Good, because I have something to show you." Kurt reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a little cube. He flipped open the black velvet top of the box to reveal a gold band with a large silver diamond on the top.

"What the hell is that?" Puck asked.

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "What do you think?"

"If it's what I think it is," Puck muttered, "I think it's a big fucking mistake."

Kurt ignored Puck and turned to Artie. "I'm gonna propose to Mercedes at your wedding, after the ceremony."

"Kurt, congratulations!" Artie exclaimed, slapping Kurt's back.

"Thanks, Artie."

Artie took the box out of Kurt's hand and examined it on all sides. "It's a beautiful ring."

"Yeah." Kurt nodded. "It's my grandmother's. She made it all the way through the Holocaust with that thing."

Puck waved both hands in the air, closing his eyes. When his eyes reopened, he stepped toward Kurt. "Wait, have you not listened to anything I have ever said?"

"Puck, we've been dating for three years. It's time," Kurt said, taking the ring into his own hands once again. "This is how it works."

"_A_, this is bullshit," Puck groused, grabbing the little box and staring at the ring with a grimace fixed on his face. "And _B_, she is a complete bitch." He shook his head and scoffed, shoving the golden band back into Kurt's waiting hands.

"Hey, that's his fiancée," Artie said, putting his hand on Kurt's shoulder. He pulled it away almost immediately and his eyes moved back to stare at the ring.

Puck folded his arms across his chest, cocked an eyebrow, and shifted his weight over to one side. "What? It's true." Both Kurt and Artie stared at him with raised eyebrows. "_It's true_." Kurt rolled his eyes and looked away, but Artie's eyebrows lifted even further. "You know it's true. She beats him."

"That was twice," Kurt sighed, "and I was out of line. She's strong-willed, and I respect that."

"Wow," Puck breathed. He rolled his eyes, and then repeated, "Wow." He ambled across the room and plopped down on the sofa. "He's in denial. Not to mention, she fucked a sailor."

"Hey, he wasn't a sailor. He was a bartender on a cruise ship. You know that." Artie went and sat next to Puck, followed by Kurt.

Kurt put his hands in the air. "Guys, I'm standing right here. So I can hear everything that you're saying."

Suddenly, Finn entered the villa. He tossed a bag to the side and approached the other three guys, sighing. "Hey, guys. You ready to let the dogs out?"

"What?" Puck asked, leaning forward.

Kurt looked at Artie and murmured, "Do what?"

"Let the dogs out." Finn shrugged. "You know."

"Who brought this guy?" Puck mumbled, turning away.

Artie stood up and patted his soon-to-be-brother-in-law's shoulder. "Yes, Finn, we are ready to let the dogs out."

* * *

"You're not really wearing that, are you?" Puck asked Finn, looking the tall guy up and down.

"Wearing what?" Finn looked down at himself, and then his confused, slightly wide eyes moved back to Puck's face.

"The man-purse. You're actually gonna wear that"—Puck looked around at Finn, Artie, and Kurt—"or are you guys fucking with me?"

"It's where I keep all my things. I get a lot of compliments on this." Finn held the brown bag in one hand and shook it for emphasis. "Plus, it's not a man-purse. It's called a satchel. Indiana Jones wears one."

"So does Joy Behar," Puck remarked, smirking.

Finn rolled his eyes.

* * *

"Guys, come on up here," Puck called down to his friends.

"Fine." The three of them joined Puck on the rooftop of the hotel. They stared out at the shining lights of Las Vegas. Cars zoomed by on the streets, and neon lights flashed nonstop throughout the town. Never-closing casinos, night clubs, discotheques, and bars lit up the long roads.

"How the hell did you find this place?" Artie asked Puck in a hushed tone.

Puck waved a hand at Artie. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh!" Finn yelled.

Artie looked at Finn. "You all right?"

Finn nodded. "Yeah."

"Look at the view up here," Kurt breathed, smirking.

"You happy?" Puck asked Artie. Artie glanced at his best friend. He turned away with a smile on his face, nodding. Artie _was_ genuinely blissful, all thanks to his friends.

"This is great." Kurt still hadn't gotten over how beautiful Vegas was.

"Whoa! Are you kidding?" Finn yelled, stepping forward.

"What do you got over there, Finn?" Artie asked, approaching the awkward man.

"That's the Eiffel tower." Finn pointed straight ahead. "Right?"

Kurt scratched his ear. Artie placed his hand on Finn's shoulder and was about to say something, but Puck cut him off. "A little Jägermeister."

The guys all turned to Puck, who handed each of his friends a shot glass. Puck held one in his own hand and put the small bottle down behind him. When he faced his friends again, Artie grinned. "Good idea."

"There it is."

"Good call," Kurt said. He motioned to their surroundings. "On the roof."

"Um, no, this is good. I'd like to make a toast." Puck raised his glass and smirked. "To Artie and Tina. May tonight be but a minor speed bump in an otherwise very long and healthy marriage."

"Cheers," the four friends chorused, all stepping in to tap their glasses together.

"Short and sweet," Kurt commented.

"Oh, it's like college."

Each of the guys took a sip of their drinks and looked out at the streets of Vegas once again. They all knew they were going to have a great time tonight, and not waste one moment.

"All right, I wanna talk about something," Finn uttered suddenly. "I'd like to say something that I prepared tonight."

Artie nodded. "All right, Finn."

Finn pulled a folded paper out of his pocket. He unfolded it and cleared his throat as he began to read off of it: "Hello. How about that ride in? I guess that's why they call it Sin City." He looked down as he continued. "You guys might not know this, but I consider myself a bit of a loner. I tend to think of myself as a one-man wolf pack." He looked up again. "But when my sister brought Artie home, I knew he was one of my own. And my wolf pack, it grew by one. So there were two of us in the wolf pack. And six months ago, when Artie introduced me to you guys, I thought, 'Wait a second. Could it be?' And now I know for sure: I just added two more guys to my wolf pack."

"All right," Kurt breathed, shrugging.

"Four of us wolves," Finn continued, "running around the desert together in Las Vegas, looking for strippers and cocaine. So tonight, I make a toast."

Finn pulled a knife out of his back pocket, beginning to run the sharp tip over the palm of his hand.

"Whoa," Artie shouted, and at the same time, Puck yelled, "Dude, what the fuck?"

"What the hell are you doing?" Kurt yelled.

Finn took a deep breath and held his shaking bloodied hand out. "Blood brothers."

"Don't . . . Why did you . . . ?"

"Damn it," Finn hissed, staring with wide, intent brown eyes as the red liquid trickled down his hand, running down every little line in the skin of his palm. He swallowed hard and blinked once. He used his other hand to hold the knife out toward Kurt. "Here."

"Finn . . ." Artie began, but he trailed off.

"No." Kurt shook his head dynamically. "No, I'm not doing that." He pressed the heel of his right hand to his eye, rubbing it before putting his arm back at his side. He sighed dramatically.

Puck smirked as he nodded once at Kurt. "Go ahead, Hummel."

"Make him stop."

"Finn, we're not gonna cut ourselves. Give me the knife." Hesitantly, Artie stepped forward and waited for Finn to place the knife in his outstretched hand. "Slowly." Finn placed the weapon in the palm of Artie's hand. "Thank you. Okay. Thank you very much."

Finn pressed the injured hand to his mouth to ease the pain. Kurt cringed as Finn's tongue swept along the gash, wiping the blood away.

"You all right?" Puck asked Finn. "Are you okay?"

"Mmhmm," Finn hummed.

"Do you need a doctor?" Kurt questioned.

"He's good," Artie assured them.

"You sure?"

"I'm good," Finn agreed with Artie.

"Perfect." Artie stepped toward his friends. "Finn, come here, buddy."

"Get in here, crazy," Puck said, pushing Finn forward. He smirked at Artie, Kurt, and Finn, his eyebrows raised. He held his drink in the air. "All right. To a night the four of us will never forget."

They tapped their glasses together once again, and Artie said, "There it is."

"Hear, hear." Kurt chuckled.

After a few moments of silence, staring at the flashing lights _again_, Artie spoke up. "Hey, thanks, guys."

Though they were looking forward to the craziest night ever, what they actually did that night was unforeseen by them all.


	2. The Next Day

**Here's chapter two. :) Very fun.**

Finn's eyelids fluttered open. He rubbed his eyes and rolled over, practically falling onto the floor. He stretched out and sat up, his head pounding. He lay back down quickly, hoping for the headache to pass. When he realized it wasn't about to get any better, he moaned and sat up again, rubbing his forehead. He got to his feet and promenaded over to the bathroom. He stood in front of the white porcelain toilet and sighed as he relieved himself. He looked to the right once, but turned back around, sniffing. He made a sort of _harrumph_ sound with his lips. He looked to the right again, and then turned back once again.

"Stupid tiger," he grumbled. As he flushed the toilet, he heard a low, rumbling growl. He did a double-take to the right. Then his eyes widened. He pressed his back against the wall and let out a loud, panicky huff. He stared at the orange-and-black-striped tiger as it opened its mouth widely. Finn scrambled out of the bathroom and went loping across the floor. He ended up tripping over a sleeping Puck, who groaned loudly as Finn hit the floor with a _thump_.

"What the fuck?" Puck croaked angrily, propping himself up with his elbow and rubbing his eyes. His eyes squinted as Finn jumbled to his feet and took quick, fearful breaths. "Control yourself, man. Goddamn, will you put on some pants?"

"Puck, do not go in the bathroom," Finn said anxiously.

Puck slowly got to his feet. "Finn, just calm down. It's me."

"Puck, there is a tiger in the bathroom!"

Kurt suddenly piped up from where he sat on the couch. "What's going on?"

Finn leapt forward, making Kurt jump. "There's a jungle cat in the bathroom!"

"Okay, okay, Finn." Puck put his hand on one of Finn's shoulders. "I'll go check it out."

"Don't go in." Finn shook his head. "Don't go in. Don't go in."

Puck started to walk toward the bathroom. Finn was right on his heels, followed closely by Kurt. Finn was shouting, "Be careful! Don't, don't!"

Puck went into the bathroom slowly. He opened the door and peeked his head in, being startled by the growling tiger. He yelled, "Oh!" He stumbled out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him as he laughed aloud. "Holy fuck! He's not kidding!"

"See?" Finn angrily pointed his finger at Puck, shoving his face closer to Kurt's. "See?"

"There's a tiger in there."

"No, there isn't," Kurt disagreed.

"Yeah! It's big!" Finn exclaimed. "Gigantic!"

"You okay, buddy?" Puck asked Kurt, placing a hand on the cringing man's arm.

"No. I am in so much pain right now."

"Goddamn," Puck murmured. "Look at this place."

The three of them stared at the untidiness of clothes, food, and other various items chaotically dispersed around the room. None of them could even see the floor. It seemed as if there had been a wild party there and nobody had even bothered to clean one thing up. The guys were all wondering the same thing, but nobody said it.

_What the fuck happened last night?_

"Whew," Kurt whistled.

"I know." Puck sat down next to Kurt on the couch.

As Kurt stared at the mess he knew they would have to pay for, something sprung into his mind. "Puck, they have my credit card downstairs." He shoved his throbbing head into his hands. He figured Mercedes was definitely going to murder him. "I am so screwed."

"How does a tiger get in the bathroom?" Finn asked. "It almost killed me."

"Hey, bro?"

Finn turned to Puck.

"You mind putting on some pants?" Puck rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. "I find it a little weird that I have to ask twice."

Finn blinked, and he somehow looked taken aback, for whatever reason. "Pants at a time like this? I don't have any p-"

Before he could finish, Puck cut him off, still completely shocked at the looks of the place and at the tiger roaring away in the bathroom. "What the fuck happened last night?"

Kurt suddenly noticed the ache in his mouth. His lips parted, and he stuck his forefinger in his mouth. He pressed it against his upper gums and flinched a little at the sudden twinge of pain. He noticed a small gap where his tooth should have been. "Hey, Puck, am I missing a tooth?"

"I can't . . ." Puck trailed off as Kurt lifted his upper lip, revealing the empty space there. Puck chuckled. "Oh, shit!"

"Oh, my God!" Kurt was completely flabbergasted. "My lateral incisor . . . It's gone!"

"It's okay. Okay, okay. Just calm down," Puck breathed. "We're fine. Everything's fine." He twisted around. "Finn, go wake up Artie." Finn stumbled toward Artie's room unsteadily. Puck said, "Let's get some coffee and get the fuck out of Nevada before housekeeping shows."

"What am I gonna tell Mercedes?" Kurt asked absentmindedly, almost to himself. He hadn't really been listening to Puck. "I lost a tooth. I have no idea how it happened."

"You're freaking me out, man," Puck sighed. "I got a massive headache, okay? Let's just calm down."

Kurt stared at Puck with wide eyes. "How am I supposed to calm down? Look around you."

Finn appeared in the room then. "Hey, guys, he's not in there." He passed them and poked his head into each room he hadn't checked yet.

"Did you check all the rooms?" Puck asked as Finn approached he and Kurt.

"Yeah, I looked everywhere. Plus, his mattress is gone," Finn explained.

"He probably went to the pool to get something to eat," Kurt said optimistically.

"I'll just call his cell." Puck found his cell phone on the counter next to the refrigerator as Finn went to check in Artie's room again.

Kurt looked in the mirror, angry, confused, and in pain. "I look like a nerdy hillbilly."

"Hello?" Puck heard on the other line of the phone call.

"Finn," Puck grumbled, recognizing the voice almost immediately.

"Hey."

"It's Puck."

"Oh, hey, Puck," Finn said on the other line. "This is Artie's phone."

Puck rolled his eyes. "No shit."

"Yeah," Finn breathed.

Puck angrily put his phone down and sighed radically. He watched as Finn exited Artie's room, and Puck fought the urge to roll his eyes at the taller guy. He used the heel of his hand to rub his forehead, trying to push away his migraine. Finn sat down on the sofa. Kurt rubbed his gums to try and make them feel better.

Suddenly, the three guys stopped what they were doing, freezing in their spots. They heard what sounded like a muffled scream. As they silenced and strained their ears to hear what it was, they decided it sounded a little bit more like a strangled cry, but nothing that was coming from an adult or anyone that was being physically hurt. Finn stood up slowly, Kurt pulled his finger out of his mouth, and Puck's eyebrows came together as he put his hands at his sides.

"What the fuck is that?" Puck asked quietly. He started walking toward the door and found that the closer he got, the louder the crying was. Kurt and Finn followed as Puck pulled the door open. His eyes widened. Kurt placed his hand on his chest, and Finn gasped.

A baby, wearing a pale blue T-shirt and a white hat, was lying in a car seat in front of the door. He was covered by a blue blanket, and he was crying.

"Whose fucking baby is that?" Puck asked. He turned to Finn. "Finn, are you sure you didn't see anyone else in the suite?"

"Yeah, I checked all the rooms. No one's here." Finn kept staring at the baby, looking him up and down. "Check its collar or something."

Kurt leaned down and lifted the car seat. He brought the baby in the room. Puck closed the door. Kurt picked the baby up and held him. "Shhh, shhh. It's okay, baby."

For a split second, Puck was reminded of his own baby girl, Beth, who was at home with his wife Quinn right now. Quinn was probably wondering where Puck was. Puck couldn't focus on that right now, though. He sighed. "Kurt, we don't have time for this. Let's go hook up with Artie; we'll deal with the baby later."

"Puck, we're not gonna leave the baby in the room," Kurt muttered. "There's a fucking tiger in the bathroom."

Puck put both palms in the air. "It's not our baby!"

Finn shrugged. "Yeah, I gotta side with Kurt on this one."

"All right, fine." Puck ran a hand over his cleanly-shaven head. "Okay, we'll take it with us." He turned to Finn, rolled his eyes, and started walking away. "Could you at least just find some pants?"

* * *

"Why can't we remember a goddamn thing from last night?" Kurt asked as they rode the elevator down.

"Because we obviously had a great fucking time," Puck chuckled. "Why don't you just stop worrying for one minute? Be proud of yourself."

Finn was leaning against the wall of the elevator, the baby in a little carrier over his torso. Finn was wearing his favorite sunglasses. Puck leaned casually behind him. Kurt was worrying away, still feeling the gap where his lateral incisor should have been.

The elevator stopped before they reached the lobby. The doors opened, and an elderly woman stepped in. She smiled at Finn, pressed a button on the elevator, and waited.

"Oh, how cute," the woman commented, staring at the baby. She looked up at the three guys. "What's his name?"

After a few moments of silence, Puck looked down. He rubbed the back of his head and replied, "Ben."

"Carlos," Finn shot back, insisting that be the baby's name.

As the doors began to close, the woman's smile faded, and Puck murmured into Finn's ear, "Carlos?"

* * *

"Hey, Puck, look."

Puck turned his head to look at Finn. Finn picked up the baby's hand and moved it in an up-and-down motion. His rumbling laughter filled the air.

"He's jackin' his little weenis!"

Puck laughed and shook his head, but he couldn't turn away; it was too funny. "Pull yourself together, man," he said to Finn.

"Not at the table, Carlos!" Finn chuckled. He released the baby's hand, but he was still laughing a little. He stopped when Kurt arrived and sat down at the table next to Puck. He was holding several ice cubes—wrapped in a paper towel—to his lip, right where the ache in his gums was.

"I looked everywhere," he breathed. "Gym, casino, front desk . . . Nobody's seen Artie. He's not here."

"He's fine. He's a grown man. Seriously, Kurt, you gotta calm down." Puck straightened his back and pushed his cup over to Kurt. "Here, have some juice."

With a gurgle, Kurt leaned over and vomited on the ground. He took a deep breath. "I can't have juice right now," he said softly.

Puck sighed and turned his napkin over, pulling a pen out of the pocket of his shirt. "Okay. All right. Let's just track this thing. What's the last thing we remember doing last night?"

"Well, the first thing is we were on the roof," Finn recalled. "And we were having those shots of Jäger. And then we ate dinner at The Palm, right?"

Puck nodded. "That's right." He wrote everything down as Finn said it.

"And then we played craps at the Hard Rock, and I think Artie was there," Finn added.

"That sounds right." Puck squinted at the clear blue sky. "No, no, he definitely was."

"You know what, guys? I don't even remember going to dinner." Kurt leaned forward and put his hands on the table.

"What the fuck?" Puck breathed. "I don't think I've ever been this hung-over."

"After the Hard Rock," Finn sighed, "I blacked out. It was like emptiness."

"Okay. We have up until ten PM," Puck said, looking at what he had written down, "so that gives us a twelve-hour window where we could have lost him."

Finn put his hands in his pockets. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed, and his hand fished around. He slowly pulled out the object that was in between his fingers and examined it carefully. "What is this?"

"Oh, my God." Kurt snatched it from Finn's hand. "That is my tooth! Why do you have it? What else is in your pockets?"

"This is a good thing," Puck insisted. He quickly reached into the pockets of his jeans. "Check your pockets, check your pockets!"

The three of them trawled through all of their pockets to see if they could find anything that might lead them to Artie. Finn put a handful of coins on the table, and then he shrugged in a way of showing that he had nothing else in his pockets; Kurt's tooth and the change had been all. Puck sighed and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand restlessly. He looked up at Kurt hopefully.

"Do you have anything?"

Kurt pulled out a small piece of paper. "I have an ATM receipt from the Bellagio. Eleven-oh-five for eight hundred dollars!" he shouted, his eyes widening as he read the receipt. He knew Mercedes was bound to find out they'd gone to Las Vegas when she saw the credit card bill now. The guys had promised Kurt he'd only have to pay for one night at the Caesars hotel. "I am so fucked."

Finn tried searching through his pockets again, and his fingertips met a piece of paper crumbled at the bottom of the compartment. He pulled it out and straightened it on the table until he was able to read it. "I have a valet ticket from Caesars. Looks like we got in at five-fifteen AM."

"Oh, shit. We drove last night?" Puck asked.

"Driving drunk. Classic!" Finn laughed.

Kurt sat back in his chair, ignoring the headache that was quickly approaching. He turned his head to face Puck, who was sipping his juice and staring forward absentmindedly. Kurt eyed the orange-and-white band that hung from Puck's wrist suspiciously. "What's on your arm?"

Puck looked at his own arm, seeing the bracelet himself. He put down his cup and took the bracelet between his forefinger and middle finger. "What the fuck is that?"

Kurt then realized just what that bracelet was. "Jesus, Puck. You were in the hospital last night."

"I guess so, yeah." Puck shrugged.

Finn's eyebrows came together, and he turned to Puck. "You okay?"

"Yeah, Finn, I'm fine."

"What the hell is going on?" Kurt asked.

"Well, Kurt, this is a good thing," Puck said uneasily. "We have a lead now."

"Hey, Kurt, watch this."

Kurt turned to Finn, who was, once again, moving the baby's hand to make it look like he was masturbating.

"You ever seen a baby do that?" Finn questioned, chuckling.

"Dude, Finn, not cool."

* * *

"So, uh, are you sure you're qualified to be taking care of that baby?" Kurt asked as Carlos hung over Finn's torso in a carrier. Kurt was eyeing Finn's sunglasses, which were on Carlos' small round face. Finn glanced at Kurt quickly.

"What? I've found a baby before."

"You found a baby before?" Kurt questioned.

"Yeah," Finn replied.

Kurt was rather curious. "Where?"

"Coffee Bean," Finn answered simply.

Kurt's eyebrows came together, and he leaned forward slightly. "Wait, what?"

Finn ignored Kurt, calling to Puck, "Hey, Puck? I don't think Artie would want us to take the Mercedes."

"Relax," Puck breathed. "We'll be careful."

"My dad is crazy about that car. He left Artie in charge," Finn explained.

"Finn. We got bigger problems here. Artie could be in the hospital. He could be hurt." Puck sighed. "Let's worry about the car later."

"Uh, guys? Check it out."

Finn and Puck turned to look where Kurt was pointing. It was a mattress. It had been pierced through the middle and was hanging from the top of the statue that perched on the room of Ceasers hotel. Several men were trying to get it down, and one shouted, "Grab it from the other side."

"Is that the mattress from Artie's room?" Finn asked.

Puck approached a worker and asked what was going on.

"Some asshole threw his bed out the window last night," the man explained.

"No shit," Puck grumbled.

"Yeah." The guy shook his head. "Some guys just can't handle Vegas."

Kurt fake-laughed uneasily as the man walked away. "Oh, God," he muttered, turning away.

"It's gonna be okay, Kurt," Puck assured him. He rubbed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest, shifting his weight over to one leg.

"How the hell did we manage that?"

Suddenly, a police cruiser pulled up next to the curb where the guys were standing. "Here's your car, officers," the valet guy said, getting out of the car.

"Oh, God," Kurt mumbled again, shaking his head.

"All right, everybody act cool. Don't say a thing," Puck said, leading his friends toward the car. "Let's just get in and go." He checked his pockets for money he could give to the valet guy, but he didn't have anything. "Hey, Kurt, you got a five?"

"No."

"I'll hit you on the way back," Puck assured the guy.

"Thank you, sir."

Puck got in the driver's side of the police cruiser. Kurt opened the passenger side door at the same time he opened the back door. As he did so, Finn stepped forward, so the door hit Carlos right in the head.

"Oh, my God." Kurt knelt down in front of the crying baby quickly. "Oh, my God. You just nailed the baby."

"Are my glasses okay?" Finn asked.

Kurt glared at him. "Your glasses are fine, dick."

* * *

"This is so illegal," Kurt reminded his friends. They rode in the police car behind a row of traffic. Puck beeped the horn agitatedly, wanting to get out of there. They were headed to the hospital to find out why Puck had a hospital bracelet on his arm; it could lead them closer to where Artie was.

"Can't you see the fun part in anything?" Puck sighed, glancing at Kurt.

"Yeah, we're stuck in traffic in a stolen police car with an obviously missing child in the back seat." He turned to Puck and cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side. "Which part of this is fun?"

"I think the cop car part's pretty cool," Finn said in the backseat.

"Thank you, Finn. It is cool," Puck agreed. "Artie would love it." He honked the horn loudly. "Come on! Check this out." He turned on the sirens of the police cruiser and peeled away from the cars quickly.

"Oh, no. No, no, Puck!" Kurt yelled. "Don't do this!"

"Take it easy."

"Just try to call more attention to us."

Puck spoke through the microphone, and his voice blasted through the speakers on the car. "Attention." He drove onto the sidewalk. Everyone started yelling and scattering, clearing a path. "Attention, please. Move out of the way. I repeat, please disperse."

"Puck, stop the car," Kurt muttered. "I wanna get out. Stop the car. I wanna get out. Pull over."

Puck eyed a woman in a tight animal-print dress as she strode past the car, winking at the three men.

"Ma'am, in the leopard dress, you have an amazing rack," Puck announced.

Kurt shook his head.

"Get off the sidewalk!" Puck smirked, chuckling to himself. "I should have been a fucking cop."

* * *

Puck, Kurt, and Finn sat in the chairs of the doctor's room, waiting for him to give them more information on why they'd been at the hospital the night before. The doctor sighed agitatedly.

"Look, I already told you," he breathed. "You came in with a mild concussion, some bruised ribs. No big deal." He pulled on his rubber gloves. "Although none of you could articulate how it happened."

"Do you remember how many of us were here?" Puck asked.

"Uh . . . I don't know. I think it was just you guys." The doctor stared at Finn holding Carlos. "Definitely no baby. And one other guy."

"That's our guy. Was he okay?"

The doctor nodded, sitting down in front of his elderly patient. "Yeah. He was fine. Just whacked out of his mind. You all were." He helped the old man stand and said, "All right, come forward and turn."

The man did what he was told. When his back was facing Puck, Kurt, and Finn, the doctor pulled down the old man's underwear. Finn closed his eyes, and Puck and Kurt abruptly turned around, cringing at the appearance of the old man's backside.

The doctor continued, "All right. There you go. And cough. Cough. Cough. Give me one more." The old man hacked out one more cough. "All right. Atta boy. Okay, Felix, you can put your robe on, and the nurse will be in here in a minute. I'll see you after the weekend."

"Thank you," the old guy said. "Thank you, doctor."

"Guys, I really gotta go," the doctor sighed, washing his hands thoroughly. "I'm sorry. I have a surgery up on the fourth floor."

"No, I know. But we just need a couple more minutes of your time." Puck reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollars. He held it up to the doctor's face and cocked an eyebrow, smirking deviously.

The doctor nodded. "Yeah. Tuck it right in there," he said, nodding toward his jacket pocket. Puck did just that. "I don't want to re-sterilize. Walk with me."

At the front desk, the doctor pulled out a file. He sighed, opening it. All three guys stood by, waiting.

"Okay, here we go. Patient name, Noah Puckerman. Two-forty-five AM arrival. Minor concussion, like I said. Some bruising. Pretty standard."

"Do you mind if I look?" Kurt asked as he, Puck, and Finn followed the swiftly-walking doctor down the hall. "I'm actually a doctor."

"Yeah, you said that several times last night," the doctor breathed. "But really, you're just a dentist." He picked up another file at the desk. "Okay, this is interesting. Your blood work came in this morning. They found a large amount of Ruphylin in your system."

The guys looked at each other, hoping one of them would understand what the doctor just said.

"Ruphylin," the doctor said again, and then rolled his eyes. "Roofies. Commonly known as the date-rape drug."

"Wait, so, what are you saying?" Puck questioned. He swallowed hard. "I was raped last night?"

"Actually . . ." The doctor read over Puck's file again. "I don't think so. But someone did slip you the drug. I'm not surprised you don't remember anything."

"Doc, none of us can remember anything from last night." Finn looked at his friends. "Remember?"

"Yeah. How could someone have drugged all of us?" Kurt asked.

"I wouldn't worry about it. The stuff's out of your system," the doctor told them. "You're gonna be fine." He started walking away, but Puck caught him.

"Wait, wait, wait. Please, doctor. Is there anything else?" Puck sighed. "Like, something we may have been talking about, or some place we were going . . ."

"Actually, there was something," the doctor said. "You guys kept talking about some wedding last night."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Yeah. No shit. Our buddy Artie's getting married tomorrow. You know what? I want the hundred back."

"No, no. Easy. You kept talking about some wedding you just came from." The doctor thought for a moment. "At the, uh, Best Little Chapel. You kept saying how sick the wedding  
was and getting all crazy about it." He backed away slowly. "Okay, I hope this helps. I really have to leave."

Puck pulled a paper and a pen out of his pocket quickly. "Best Little Chapel. Do you know where that is?"

The doctor's eyes narrowed. "I do. It's at the corner of Get A Map and Fuck Off."

As Puck wrote it down, he realized what the doctor said. He lifted his head, put the pen away, and sighed, handing the paper to Kurt. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the doctor, annoyed.

"I'm a doctor, not a tour guide. Figure it out yourself, okay? You're big boys." And with that, the doctor trekked off. Puck shook his head, leading Kurt and Finn out of the hospital. They were going to Best Little Chapel.


End file.
